“I clean forgot he was yore hoss,” she said, apologetically, to Mr. Saltoun.  “I’ll have to go back to the Bar S first.”

“Thassall right,” Mr. Saltoun made haste to assure her.  “You take him right along.  One of the boys can ride yore hoss to town on the next trip an’ ride this one back.”

“That will save me a lot of trouble,” said Marie, turning her bewildered mount a second time.

“She ain’t ridin’ straight toward Farewell,” said Tom Loudon, rolling a slow cigarette.

“Aw, she’s sensible,” yawned Mr. Saltoun.  “She’ll do like Racey says all right.  She must like him a lot.  I—­Whatsa matter with you?”

For Tom Loudon had contrived to make a long leg and give Mr. Saltoun a vigorous kick on the ankle.

“I guess we’ll be goin’,” dodged Tom Loudon, and then took off his hat to Miss Dale.  “So long, miss.  If you—­uh—­You know where the Bar S is in case—­just in case, y’ understand.”

He touched his horse with the spur and moved off with as much dignity as a colonel of cavalry.  Not so Mr. Saltoun.  He had been kicked, and the kick hurt, and he was very red and ruffled in consequence.  Swearing under his breath he followed his son-in-law.

“Here,” he demanded, crowding his horse alongside, “what did yuh kick me for?”

Tom Loudon looked over his shoulder before replying.  The ranch-house was a hundred yards in the rear and Molly Dale was not in sight.  He deliberately turned his head and looked his father-in-law straight in the eye.  “What did I kick you for?” he repeated.  “I kicked you because you didn’t have any sense.”

This was too much.  “Huh?  Because I—­Lookit here, you—­”

“’Tsall right, ’tsall right.  You didn’t have any sense.  Here’s Molly Dale thinks Racey is the only fellah ever rode a cayuse, and you have to blat out so she can hear you, ’Marie must shore like him a lot’.”

“Well, what of it?  I don’t see—­”

“You don’t?  Wait till I tell Kate.”

“It ain’t necessary to tell my daughter,” Mr. Saltoun remonstrated, hurriedly.  “I suppose my saying that about Marie might give Molly a wrong idea maybe about Racey.  But how do you know she likes Racey?  You been talking to her?  Did she tell you so?”

“I ain’t, and she didn’t.  I been talking to Kate.  She told me.  Don’t ask me how she knows.  She says she knows, and that’s enough for me.  You can’t fool a woman in things like that.”

“You can’t fool ’em in anything,” Mr. Saltoun corroborated, bitterly.  “I shore oughtn’t to said that about Racey and Marie.  I’ll go right back and tell Molly it ain’t so.”

Mr. Saltoun started to wheel his horse, but Tom Loudon halted that manoeuvre.

“You gotta let it go now,” said he.  “If you tell her you didn’t mean what you said she shore will think it’s true.”

“We-ell, if you think I’d better not, I won’t,” Mr. Saltoun assented, doubtfully.  “But I wouldn’t say anything to Kate if I was you.”